Melantho: Book One
by Stephy2
Summary: The adventures of Melantho, Daughter of Skeletor, after the destruction of the Mystic Wall. Between her first crush and learning the different histories of the Great Unrest, she finds out that life is not as simple as she once perceived. Not all the villains are evil, and not all heroes are virtuous.
1. Prologue

**Quick Author's Note: I have taken down the old version of Melantho. This is the newer version, and while it starts off very closely to the old, it will diverge quickly. Due to school and work, I may only update twice a month. As per usual, none of the recognized characters belong to me. I hope you enjoy and I look forward to any feedback provided.**

**Cheers, Stephy **

**Prologue**

She was dying. She had been on the verge of death for nearly six years, and he came to hope she'd recover. He could no longer fool himself. She was dying, and it would happen today.

"Kelantho, my love, is there anything I can do for you?" He squeezed her hand. She was too weak to squeeze back. It was now, staring down at his fading wife that he wished he could change the past. He would have stayed home more, perhaps fought in the war less. He would have told her loved her more often. Never let himself be led astray that one time.

So many mistakes that he wished he could go back and undo.

"Tri-Klops has finished the new water purifier. The water is now the sweetest you'll ever taste. No more sulfuric after taste. And Evil-Lynn went hunting and brought back some creature for dinner." He smiled as well as he could as his wife frowned. Gently tracing his thumb over the paper-thin skin of her hand, he said, "I know you don't care for her. Forgive my past, my love. I have not looked at her since that time. You are the only woman for me."

With his free hand, he brushed a few strands of her black hair away from her blue-skinned face. Once, he looked like her; dark blue skin and black hair, the proud markings of his people. Now, she was really the only one left.

"Kelantho," he muttered, the words catching in his throat. If this was the last, he knew he had to say it. "I wish I had saved you. I wish I had killed the one who did this to you - to our son. I wish I could avenge you." He squeezed her hand once more. "I promise I will. I will not fail you again."

Six years ago, when his war with his despised half-brother Randor reached its peak, his life came crashing down. He thought he was on top of the world, about to win his rightful place among his people. He was poised to win, it was so near his grasp. He had just destroyed the fragile family bonds of his enemy, left them in the very depths of despair over the loss of a child they could never get back. However, Randor was more like him then either would ever admit, and he gave as good as he got. While he was away, fighting a small portion of Randor's army, another troop had sneaked into his village. He returned to find his home burned to the ground, his son slaughtered, his people dead, and his wife a broken woman.

Blast Randor's luck! That rat managed to escape every trap he set. To make matters worse, it was he who was defeated, not Randor.

"Keldor?" He almost didn't hear his wife's gentle calling.

"Yes, my love?"

"Promise me," she whispered. Her voice trailed off. He could see her thin lips moving, but not make out the words.

"Anything, Kelantho. I'll promise anything." He brought her hand to his lips, only to remember belatedly that he no longer had the lips to kiss her sweet hand. A parting gift from Randor. The burn of acid, his skin melting, the fact that he was only alive because of black magic and a soul-binding contract to an evil that made his skin crawl. There were times at night he wondered if his horrific appearance wasn't partly the cause for his lovely wife to fade away so fast.

"Protect her," Kelantho breathed. "Promise me."

"Protect?"

"Protect the child. Please Keldor."

The mere thought turned his stomach. The 'heroes' that attacked his village and killed his son left one more horrific surprise for him: one of them raped his wife. In her depression over losing their beloved young Devlin, Kelantho suddenly wanted to keep the baby. In her mind, she refused to believe she was pregnant by such a monster and started calling the baby Keldor's. He should have put his foot down, but he could never say no to Kelantho. The baby gave her so much joy, but its birth robbed her of her strength. Every time he planned on killing it, Kelantho must have sensed it for she would ask him to either present the child or to care for it. He just couldn't bear the thought of destroying what little happiness his wife still had. After her death, he would destroy that abomination.

"My love, don't ask this of me," he begged.

"Please. She's all we have left. She'll be the last."

"She's not mine."

Kelantho gave a shuddering breath. "She is still us, Keldor. She's still Achian."

"She is also one of _them_."

"Then make her one of us fully. Protect her, Keldor, and she will serve you well."

"Kelantho..."

"No, Keldor!" Kelantho summoned the last of her strength. In that moment she was the woman he fell in love with, the powerful and beautiful daughter of a lord. In Achian culture, the women held the power, and it was only to Kelantho did he ever bend his head. "She is the last female Achian. If you are to ever bring our race back, you will need her. I bore her out of a need to see our race rise again." Seeing the slight jump go through his body, she smiled. "Did you think I did that because I wanted that creature's child? No, she is at least half Achian, and you will raise her to be as whole as possible. Use her, my husband, to bring Randor to his knees. She is a weapon, always remember that."

With the knowledge that the last of her strength was finally slipping away, Keldor agreed. He'd 'protect' the child, but if it died in his care, so be it. He would not coddle the child of his enemy, but he would turn it into the weapon his wife envisioned.

"Love you, Keldor," Kelantho sighed. She breathed out and expired. Keldor sat there, staring at his beautiful wife's dead body. He could feel the last vestiges of goodness fade until he wondered if it was ever really there at all.

Finally, he stood and walked from the room. He was no longer Keldor, husband of Kelantho and son of Mela. He was no longer Keldor, general and hero of the Achians. The moment he left that room, that side of him was gone forever. Keldor had the ability to be the good guy, to be that sweet man Kelantho fell in love with.

Now, he was Skeletor, Overlord of Evil.

He needed to decide what to do with that blasted child. He promised Kelantho, but could he really do it? Could he raise and protect it? That was a promise by Keldor, and he was Skeletor now. No one expected the Overlord of Evil to keep his promises.

_Please, my love._ Kelantho's sweet voice echoed in his mind. Deep down, he knew he would honor Kelantho's last wish. No matter who was - Keldor or Skeletor - he loved her.

He marched briskly down the dark, cold halls of Snake Mountain. He would have to do this before he lost his nerve. Finding the child was no problem. All he had to do was locate the two most dim-witted of his minions and fetch the child. Luckily, he found them on his first stop.

The two minions stood hunched over a hole in the wall. Whiplash, a reptilian creature with a flexible and deadly tail, tried to whistle at the hole, but it came out as a rush of wind ending with a sputter. Clawful, a crab-like creature with huge clawed hands, was holding a treat by the hole.

"Come on out. Please." Clawful waved the treat by the hole. "Nummy nummies."

"I don't think that's working," Whiplash said.

"Well whistling isn't working either."

Skeletor walked over. "Exactly what is going on here?"

The two minions turned. Too stupid to look embarrassed, they both pointed to the hole. "She won't come out," Whiplash said.

"We didn't think she'd go in there. We were playing and she slipped into the hole."

Skeletor glanced around them and noticed that the hole in the wall was just big enough for a small, malnourished five-year-old child to fit through. He pushed his henchmen away and peered into the hole. For a brief moment, hope fluttered in his cold heart. If the little brat wanted to get stuck and die in that hole, so be it. That hope died when he noticed a shadow moving at the far end. There was a way out.

"And why would it run into the hole," Skeletor asked, standing back up.

"We were playing a game," Whiplash said.

"What kind of game?"

"I was General Randor, and I was chasing her around the room. If I caught her, I was going to eat her," Clawful said. "And Whiplash was Duncan."

"We weren't really going to eat her," Whiplash added. "It was just a game."

Skeletor turned to leave. "Don't move from that spot until the brat comes out," he said. He was curious to know how long it would take them to realize it had escaped. On his way out, he stopped by the next room and fetched the child, who was huddling in the corner. He had one more place to visit before he could put his lovely Kelantho to rest.

He never promised he'd protect the brat alone. Who better among his minions to care for a child then Evil-Lynn? Surely she would have some kind of motherly instinct, right?

Evil-Lynn had been spending a lot of time in Tri-Klops' labs. Everyone knew it had more to do with the burly inventor/swordsman than it did with any love for inventing. Deep down, Skeletor knew he had no reason to feel jealousy. Evil-Lynn had been a single fling, a mistake he regretted the moment he got home. Why should he care if she found a new plaything? Perhaps it was because Tri-Klops was his most loyal of henchmen, the only one to really pledge his life to the service of Skeletor. He hated to share.

"Evil-Lynn, get off my work bench!" Tri-Klops' deep, rumbling voice echoed outside the room. Skeletor felt practically giddy to know there was trouble in paradise.

"All you want to do is tinker with that little toy," came Evil-Lynn's seductive voice. "Aren't I much more interesting then that pile of metal and bolts?"

"At this moment, no."

Skeletor opened the lab door. Evil-Lynn was half-naked, perched on the work bench. Her pale limbs were smudged with the dirt and oil from Tri-Klops' latest project. Tri-Klops, so named for the visor he wore, stood with his arms folded and fully dressed. Both looked up as Skeletor entered the room, and it pleased him to note that Tri-Klops, at least, had the grace to look shamed.

"Lord Skeletor," Tri-Klops said as he pushed past Evil-Lynn. "I was just about to come looking for you. I've completed the first prototype of the Doom Seeker. With it, we can explore further out and not worry about the heat and thirst that plagues the Dark Hemisphere. I know it's a bit bulky, but we can work on that." He held out a a clunky, bird-shaped machine.

"Were you now?" Skeletor looked over at Evil-Lynn, who had not bothered to cover herself. She stared silently back, challenging him to say something, to show some emotion that she mattered.

Instead, Skeletor pushed the child forward. "Kelantho is dead," he announced. He shoved the child to Evil-Lynn's feet. "I want that thing bathed and brought down to the tombs. Alive."

"Planning on disposing of it in the tombs," drawled Evil-Lynn. "And here I thought we'd just stumble across the body someday, rotten and decomposed in some forgotten smelly corner of Snake Mountain."

"Tri-Klops, follow me." Skeletor didn't bother to see if his minions did as he ordered. He took it for granted that they jumped to his tasks. He knew Tri-Klops, at least, would die if he commanded it.

Silently, they went back to Kelantho's room to fetch the body. In the tomb, far below the mountain in the only cool area of all the Dark Hemisphere, they placed her in the prepared stone coffin. The lid of the coffin had her likeness carved in, her beautiful form sleeping for all eternity.

Evil-Lynn finally arrived with the still-wet brat. Cleaned up, Skeletor could see a lot of Kelantho in her. Like all Achians, she had the same blue skin and black hair. Some trick of fate gave her the watery blue eyes that must belong to her father instead of the beautiful dark ones of Kelantho. This was the only thing that brought him back to the reality that he hated her. If she looked too much like Kelantho, he feared he might come to care for her.

Soon, the rest of his minions filtered into the room, except for Whiplash and Clawful. They were probably still staring at the hole in the wall. It was now or never. Skeletor cleared his throat.

"As you are all aware by now, Kelantho passed this morning. This is the only time you will be allowed in her tomb. After you pay your respects, you will leave. No one is to enter here without my permission." He reached down and pulled the child up. "As for this thing -" He paused, picking his words carefully, "-it needs a name."

"Why bother," asked Evil-Lynn. "you're only going to kill it."

"Am I, Evil-Lynn?"

She looked from the child to her master, all certainty starting to drain from her pretty face. "Aren't you?"

"No. It was Kelantho's dying wish to have this thing grow up. So, she shall be named and taught and become one of us."

"Why," asked Kronis. "What do we need her for anyway?"

"Kelantho's wish," Skeletor said. He wasn't about to tell Kronis, the only other Achian alive, that their species survival depended on this little half-breed brat. He was just starting to realize his wife's wisdom, and wasn't ready to share. The Achians were dead, and this brat was the last female. If Skeletor ever found anyone he thought would carry the Achian genes perfectly enough, he would need her.

Skeletor picked up the child by the back of her shirt. Holding her over Kelantho's tomb, he said, "Take a good look. Your mother is dead. The only person on this planet who cared about you has passed on." He dropped the child. "Kelantho was one of the two greatest women I've known in my lifetime. She was kind, beautiful, powerful, and wise. All things you will strive to be, brat. The other woman was my mother, Mela. A strong and determined woman. Another person you will strive to be like."

He studied the urchin. It was too stupid to understand him. Spending so much of her time with Clawful and Whiplash must have stunted her intellect. He'd have to fix that. While he didn't mind having mindless drones as his minions, he didn't want all of them to be idiots.

"Your name, from this day on, will be Melantho. Now get up! Your sniveling is annoying me. No child of mine will be a sniveling coward."

"Child of yours?" Evil-Lynn's question was a bit too loud in the tomb, echoing off the stone walls.

"Yes. As of today, I am adopting her. It was what Kelantho wanted." He turned away, waving them off. "Leave. I wish to be alone."

The minions filed out, taking Melantho with them. The little girl looked hopefully up at each of them, knowing something had happened. She held her hand out Evil-Lynn first, but was ignored.

"What do we do with her," asked Tri-Klops.

"I don't care," said Evil-Lynn. She pushed the child out of her way and stalked out. "I'm not babysitting that creature." One by one, the other henchmen found an excuse to leave the moment those watery blue eyes landed on him. Soon, only Tri-Klops was left, standing before the still hopeful child.

He sighed, looking down at her innocent face. "Fine," he growled. "Come on, than. Your first lesson will be to learn the difference between a spark wench and a tork wench."

Another quick note: Sorry, one more. There will be special features in this story called "Interludes". They are background short stories or scenes rewritten in another character's POV. I have few planned, but don't mind taking suggestions. The first will be after Chapter Five, all about how Kelantho and Keldor met.


	2. Chapter One: The Beginning, Part One

**Chapter One - The Beginning, Part One**

_The world of Eturnia is split between two halves: the Dark Hemisphere and the land of Eturnia. The one everyone just calls Eturnia is filled with light, life, and goodness. This is the home of heroes and kings. Seasons change here and the rain is pure. This is where only good exists._

_The Dark Hemisphere, however, is a nightmare place. Filled with large volcanoes whose ever-smoking tops blot out the sun and hot ash fills the air. Obsidian rocks and pools of lava litter the ground, and nothing can grow there. Only the most hearty of animals have a chance at surviving, and those that do often become twisted by the very evil nature of the Dark Hemisphere._

_This is the world of evil. Children of Eturnia are taught to fear the Dark Hemisphere. Parents use it as a tool to keep the young ones in line. "Eat your vegetables or you'll be dragged to the Dark Hemisphere at night and eaten" or "Clean your room or the Warriors of Evil will come and take you away to be with the other naughty children who won't listen to their mothers". _

_Separating the two halves is the Mystic Wall. A structure made of pure protective magic, it changes shape to keep the dark at bay. Rumors state that it can grow taller to stop the evil from climbing or flying over, burrow deeper to keep them from digging under, and stretch into infinity on either direction. Though, this obviously did not stop the fears of the children that the evil will take them away for not eating their peas._

_The Wall had been like this for fifteen years, ever since the victory of General Randor and the Defenders against the evil army of Keldor. For some, fifteen years is a lifetime._

_- History of Eturnia, v1, Haversham, Edwards_

Several miles from the Mystic Wall, in the Dark Hemisphere, sat the foreboding fortress of Snake Mountain. Dark and frightening, it had been built centuries ago on top of a volcano. Lava poured from the sculpted of the giant snake that curled around the structure, giving the fortress its name. The knowledge of who built it had been lost to history, but it was not sitting empty.

To the left of Snake Mountain sat a small mine shaft. Dug deep into the ground, it was needed to supply the inhabitants with metals. Melantho, the youngest inhabitant at fifteen, pushed the cart of raw metal chunks out of the mine. The dry heat of the surface was only marginally cooler then the volcanic underground. She sighed, wiping dirt and sweat from her brow. Her blue skin, several shades lighter than it should have been due to living in a world where the sun did not shine, was nearly as black as the soot of the mine. Her tattered clothes were dirty and hung off her malnourished frame, and her black hair, though pulled up in a ponytail, was tangled. Flying around her was a clunky bird-shaped machine, the whistles sounding almost encouraging.

"You're wanted in the throne room." Melantho looked up to see two hulking figures walking over to her. One was reptilian in nature with a long tail, a huge knot of muscle and bone at the end. The other was crab-like with large claws for hands. She smiled, recognizing them. Whiplash and Clawful were often her playmates growing up, and they were among the only inhabitants of Snake Mountain who didn't lash out at her first and explain why later. The two of them were very simple, and if their minds were put together, their intelligence was still a single digit. But, that simpleness often meant they came up with the best games to play when she was just a kid. Other than Tri-Klops, whom she could confide in, Whiplash and Clawful were her only friends.

"What is it about this time," she asked.

Whiplash, the slightly smarter of the two, shrugged. "The boss just said to fetch you and tell you to clean up. Everyone is gathering."

"Something about the Mystic Wall," added Clawful.

Melantho nodded. It was always about the Mystic Wall. How many times have they tried to escape this hellish land? Through the years they did everything; they tried flying, digging, scaling the wall, and blowing it up. Figuring out the wall was her father's job, and he must have a new plan.

"Don't forget to clean up," Whiplash said. "You look awful."

"Of course." Melantho quickly chanted a cleansing spell. Her body was enveloped by a chilly blue light. When it faded, she was freezing, but clean. Soon, the hot air of the Dark Hemisphere warmed her up before it started to bake her once more.

The spell was one of her own creations. Her father, Lord Skeletor, only allowed it because it helped them save on water. Otherwise, something so useless would have been forbidden. The fact that she came up with a cleansing spell instead of something to defeat her enemies only showed how weak she was.

She left the two minions and quickly headed to the anti-chamber of the throne room with her bird machine at her heels. When summoned for official business, everyone gathered there and went in as some kind of formal committee. When Melantho got there, Evil-Lynn was already waiting. This did not surprise her, Evil-Lynn's duties often kept her closer to Snake Mountain.

Melantho had a love-hate relationship with the older woman. Though she sometimes thought of Evil-Lynn as her mother and wanted to impress the only other female in Snake Mountain, she knew she was a disappointment. Evil-Lynn was everything Melantho aimed to be: powerful, confident, and beautiful. She had the ear and trust of Lord Skeletor, she was respected among the henchmen, and she had a sharp wit that Melantho dreamed of possessing.

Like the others in Snake Mountain, Evil-Lynn dressed in the tattered remains of her old clothes. There was little material to make new clothes, and the henchman with the sewing skills died months after the Mystic Wall went up. Her threadbare skirt hung around her shapely legs and a few scraps of cloth remained to protect her from the boney breastplate. Only the helmet she wore remained as good as new, the upkeep done with magic. In one pale hand, she held her power staff. She was the one who taught Melantho magic.

Evil-Lynn's lip curled when she saw Melantho. "I thought you had mine duty today," the witch said.

"I did."

"You must not be working hard enough if you're still clean."

Melantho smiled. "I had to use a cleansing spell. Fa-Lord Skeletor's orders were that I come here cleaned." Melantho was not allowed to call her father "Father". It was a weak word. She was a minion, one of the fold. She would address him only as Lord Skeletor. It didn't mean she stopped thinking of him as Father.

Evil-Lynn scoffed. "A pathetic spell."

A strong musky scent, like wet fur, signaled the arrival of the next minion. Beastman, a fearsome orange-furred monster, lumbered into the room. His fur was matted and smelled as if he hadn't bathed in months. Around his slooping shoulders was a slimy two-headed eel, adding to the muck that clung to him.

Like many of Skeletor's minions, Beastman came from a noble background. Once upon a time, he had been the leader of a tribe of beast men. However, his choice to enter the war on the side of the Achians caused distress among his people and they forced him out. Taking away his name, he renamed himself Beastman. Someday, when the Mystic Wall was down and they were free, he vowed to return to his people and take back what was stolen.

Evil-Lynn snarled. "Must you bring vermin in here?"

"It's not vermin, Evil-Lynn. It's an ecto-eel."

"I was talking to the ecto-eel."

Beastman growled low in his throat. His yellow eyes darted to where Melantho stood. "What are you staring at, Brat?"

"Nothing of importance," she said. Evil-Lynn's hand suddenly flashed out, slapping Melantho hard across the cheek.

"You have not earned the right to address him with anything but respect," Evil-Lynn stated. "You are the least of us."

"Of course, Evil-Lynn." She looked over at Beastman. "Sorry." When Evil-Lynn raised her hand once more, Melantho added, "Sorry, Beastman."

Beastman snorted. "Just remember your place, Brat."

A mechanical whirling interrupted them before anything else could be said. They turned to see Trapjaw, more machine than man, walk in. Born an Achian noble named Kronis, he turned his back on his people for the thrill of becoming a thief. When called to join Keldor's army, he readily agreed. Melantho was ten when Kronis decided that, due to his higher birth, he was meant to be the ruler of Snake Mountain. He staged a one man coup, and was thoroughly beaten by Skeletor. It took the combined efforts of Tri-Klops, Melantho, and Evil-Lynn to heal and piece the man back together, working for over a week. Kronis died and Trapjaw was born, giving his loyalty to Skeletor.

The incident left the blue-skinned man with a discolored face, metallic jaw, and a robotic arm and leg. He could no longer stomach real food and ate metals, meaning that the scrap from the mine had to be stretched between the inventions of Skeletor and Tri-Klops, and Trapjaw's meals. Melantho heard stories that Kronis had been rather quick witted, but the Trapjaw she knew was rather slow. Not as dull as Whiplash and Clawful, but very close.

A softer mechanical nose emitted from the halls and the final member arrived. Tri-Klops and his little spy bot, Doom Seeker, entered the anti-chamber. Once the bot showed up, the clunky bird machine left Melantho's side to greet its more sleek and refined brother. Both had been created by Tri-Klops.

Tri-Klops was the only human minion. Still young and virile, his body bulged with muscles brought on by his compulsive sword practice and hours spent in his lab. His eyes were hidden by the visor that wrapped around his head, with three lenses through which he could view the world. Skeletor made the visor, and all Melantho knew was that Tri-Klops owed his master his life. She didn't know much about his past, just that he was probably the most loyal of all the henchmen. For most of her life, he had been her favorite teacher. Secretly, she wanted to be an inventor, just like him.

"Looks like we're all here," Evil-Lynn said. That was the signal for them to enter the throne room.

"What does he want this time," Beastman asked.

"Something about the Mystic Wall," Tri-Klops said.

Melantho added, "I think this might be the day." She saw Evil-Lynn raise her hand and quickly hid behind Tri-Klops. It was only a momentary relief. She'd just get punished more the moment Evil-Lynn caught her, but it was worth it to not enter the throne room with a red hand print or black eye.

"I've heard that before," Beastman grunted. A sudden bolt of energy slammed into the hulking minion, sending him crashing into the wall. The electro-eel slithered off unharmed.

"Aw, that was my snack," Beastman moaned as he stood back up.

"What was that, Beastman?" Skeletor's silky smooth voice came from the throne sitting high above the room. He glared down at the minions as they filed in, ever watchful from the shadows. By his side was a large purple panther named Panthor, a species of cat that could survive the Dark Hemisphere. He petted Panthor absent-mindedly, while his other hand clutched his powerful ram's head Havoc staff. As an Achian, he didn't need the staff to work magic, but he used it to amplify his abilities.

"N-nothing," Beastman muttered. He shuffled over to his corner as the others went to their designated spaces.

Melantho started to go to her spot when she heard her name. Looking up, she saw her father point to the empty spot on the right of his throne. These were the days she lived for, days when she was more than just a minion. Today, she was daughter. Skeletor must be a great mood. When she took her seat, her little bird machine whirled over to rest against Panthor.

"For fifteen years now, we have been held trapped by that accursed Mystic Wall." This was Skeletor's normal speech for when he called them together to destroy the Wall. Melantho could recite it by heart, but dared not to. "No more! I have created a device that will finally free us for good. We shall have our justice against General Randor and those blasted Defenders. The powers of the Elders will be mine and all of Eturnia will tremble at my feet."

Clawful and Whiplash entered the throne room, carrying a cylinder machine between them. The metallic body was the reason why Melantho had to work harder in the mines. She was sure the amount of metal it took was at least two days worth of her labor. Not to mention whatever else went into it. Only her father would have the privilege to work with such materials without worrying about whether or not they could afford it. Skeletor was so many things: Ruler of the Dark Hemisphere, Lord of Snake Mountain, Swordsman, Inventor, Magic-User, Soldier, and probably more. It made Melantho proud to have such a man as her father.

"What is it?" Tri-Klops ran his fingers lovingly over the metal body. As an inventor, he was curious as to how it worked.

"Don't touch!" Skeletor's voice was enough to cause the younger man to jump back. "It's only missing the final ingredient: the Cordorite Crystal from the Sea of Rakash. For six years, I've searched for it, and now victory will be mine!"

As if on cue, one of the many mud-filled pits in the throne room bubbled. It welled up as a new figure surged forth. Merman, the only henchman who could leave the Dark Hemisphere, stepped sloppily into the room, the mud sliding off his scaly body and onto the floor.

"Six years to find the thing. At least you could do is take five minutes to wipe it off," Evil-Lynn scoffed.

Skeletor patted Melantho on the shoulder and pointed to Merman. Delighted at the honor, she got up and met the minion halfway down the stairs. As she stood in front of him, the Crystal dripping mud on the stairs in his outstretched hands, she felt a wave of anger. Merman was not bound to the Dark Hemisphere. He could leave it when he wanted, travel the Outside World and live his life as if the Imprisonment never happened. She felt that he was not as loyal to Lord Skeletor as the rest. They stayed with him, they shared his pain, but not Merman.

And now, he was dirtying up the throne room. Of all the henchmen, he was the one she hated the most.

"Take it," Merman commanded, giving the Crystal a little shake.

"Clean it," she said. "I will not present something so filthy to Lord Skeletor."

Merman snarled in his watery voice, but Melantho stood firm. "Just hex it clean, Brat."

"Just clean it, Merman."

A blast from the Havoc staff near Melantho's feet caused her to jump. She turned to see her father, the eye holes of his skull glowing red. His good mood was quickly fading.

"Melantho, what have we taught you about manners?" His voice was dangerously calm. Already, the scars on her body tingled with the memory of what would be done to her when he was in this mood.

"I am to respect your henchmen and you above all others," Melantho whispered.

"Correct. And what are you doing now?"

"Not respecting Merman."

"Correct." He then turned his attention to Merman. "Clean the damn Crystal, Merman. It's disgusting and the mud will ruin my machine."

Merman walked back down the stairs and wiped the Crystal clean on Beastman's fur. He walked back up and presented it again to Melantho. With shaky hands, she took it up to her father. He snatched it away and pushed past her. Without a word, he placed it in the machine and watched it hum to life. He signaled for Clawful and Whiplash to get the machine. They were going to the Mystic Wall.

"What about Melantho, my lord," Evil-Lynn said as the girl started to walk down the stairs.

"Let her come. This event should be witnessed, even by those who forget their place," said Skeletor.

The small group headed out with all the pomp and circumstance done with each occasion. Skeletor rode out on a small chariot, driven by two of Beastman's largest pets. Everyone else walked. Bringing up the rear was Whiplash and Clawful, lugging the machine. At the Mystic Wall, they set the machine down under the watchful eye of Tri-Klops.

"Melantho, help me look this over," Tri-Klops said. When Skeletor's shoulders stiffened, Tri-Klops added, "I'd rather have another set of eyes to make sure nothing is missed. This is very important."

"Melantho, help Tri-Klops," Skeletor said, pushing the girl toward the machine. Melantho knelt by the machine, studying it carefully for any signs of scratches.

"You need to keep your tongue in check," Tri-Klops whispered, taking extra care to look over the machine. "One of these days, you're going to push him too far."

"I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"When you heal from whatever punishment you'll endure, come by the lab. I can always use an extra hand."

Melantho gave him a weak smile and went back to work. When neither could find anything wrong with the machine, they stood back and allowed Clawful and Whiplash to turn it on. However, the two henchmen could not figure out how to work the machine. It was then Melantho noticed that her father and his more trusted henchmen were standing a ways off. Not a good sign.

"It's not working," Clawful whined.

Tri-Klops sighed. "Try pushing the button."

"The what?"

"The button, you idiot." He pointed to a very obvious red button on the side of the machine.

Whiplash pushed Clawful out of the way and pressed the button. The machine buzzed to life and started to vibrate. "Maybe we shouldn't stand here," Whiplash said as the machine started to rattle violently. It was the only warning any of them got. Suddenly, the machine roared to life and shot out a powerful white beam at the Mystic Wall. The backlash of power sent the four of them flying back. Tri-Klops managed to grab Melantho and cushion her fall.

"Are you all right," Tri-Klops asked, looking up at Melantho draped across his body.

"I think so," she said, slowly getting up.

"If you two are done flirting, we have work to do," Evil-Lynn sneered.

Tri-Klops frowned as he made sure Melantho wasn't hurt. Then he sent his Doom Seeker out to check the Wall. All that was found was a tiny crack.

"Another failure," scoffed Evil-Lynn. "I guess it's back to the drawing board."

"Not quite," corrected Skeletor. "Now we know where to strike." The joy in his voice spurred on his minions, who attacked the cracked section with all their pent-up ferocity. It did little good. The crack may have gotten bigger, but the Wall still remained.

"Allow me boys." Evil-Lynn stepped up. She raised her magic staff and chanted, "A change is at hand. Turn this Wall into dust, it's destruction an absolute must!" Her spell caused the crack to widen even more, but the Wall stood.

"My turn," Melantho said. Without the aid of a power staff or chanting spells, she unleashed a wave of destructive magic. When the dust cleared, it revealed that she, too, had failed. Only the barest shafts of light and air from the other side could be seen. A few more days like this, and they might bring that Wall down.

Unless it could magically regenerate.

"This is hopeless," moaned Clawful from where he sat.

"Nothing is hopeless," said Skeletor. He sent a powerful blast from his Havoc staff. It was the final strike needed and the Wall crumbled down around them. Skeletor laughed as the debris rained down, burying him and his henchmen. Tri-Klops managed to grab Melantho and cover her before the debris covered the ground.

For a moment, there was peace and quiet, as if the world were still sleeping to the possibility that the Wall could come down. Gentle breezes from Eturnia wafted into the Dark Hemisphere, cooling a small portion of the land. Flecks of water moisture sizzled as they hit the red volcanic rock. Then, like macbre daisies, Skeletor's Army dug themselves free. Tri-Klops pulled Melantho up and steadied her as she gazed out into the green world.

"It's so beautiful," she breathed.

"Pretty wrapping, that's all," Tri-Klops muttered.

"Now it's time to exact our revenge," Skeletor said. "They had peace! For fifteen years, they grew soft. Eturnia will be mine!"

"What will our first step be, my lord? Will we finally destroy Randor," Melantho asked.

"We?" Skeletor repeated the word as if he'd never heard it before. "What is this we you speak of? We will not do anything. I will exact my revenge. My warriors will accompany me. You, Melantho, will stay put."

"S-stay?"

"You did not think I would forget what happened earlier, did you? Take the beasts back to Snake Mountain. Feed and bathe them. Then, clean up the throne room. I want it sparkling by the time I get back."

Melantho tried to speak. She wanted to protest, to say that it was Merman who dirtied the throne room, so he should clean it. Her words of gratitude or acceptance came too slow and Skeletor backhanded her. The force of it spun her around as she hit the ground. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to cry. That would only make him angrier.

"Well! I gave you an order, Melantho! I suggest you get started," Skeletor snapped.

"Yes, my lord." Melantho got up and took the reigns of the beasts. She heard her father call for the Griffins, huge winged beasts that would be their transport from the Dark Hemisphere. One last look over her shoulder showed her that none of the other henchmen dared to glance her way. She sighed and continued home.

**I'm sorry this is a bit late. I've had a very hellish week. Between work and school, I found out that I have diabetes. It's not something I can't handle, but the medication I am on doesn't like me very much. I couldn't do anything for a while because moving made me feel sick. So, I'm better, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter.


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